


For Now, Let Me Enjoy This

by egg_babie



Category: BnHA, Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia, mha
Genre: .....more angst, Angst, Currently being rewritten - Freeform, Hanahaki AU, M/M, Young erasermic, goes along the route of vigilantes, hanahaki, honestly the whole thing is angst, im soft 🥺🥺🥺, meaning oboro dies, not like hizashi or aizawa, thats the character death btw, there are some fluffy parts tho, used to be called why? by chaosgay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21725509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egg_babie/pseuds/egg_babie
Summary: The year was 2005.Hizashi Yamada, a 15 year old with the dream of becoming a hero, stood at the gates of the famous school called UA—or Yuuei, it depended.Just standing at the gates made him feel small, like he didn't belong there. But nevermind that. All he had to do was pass the entrance exam. That of which, of course, he had no idea would have in store for him.No biggie.At the very least, he had a quirk that would work in his favor. The boy standing next to him, with the black hair, ruby eyes, and pretty voice did not.Hizashi would realize two very important things during the exam: one, he was very, very lucky. Two, his name was Aizawa Shouta.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Shirakumo Oboro & Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Shirakumo Oboro, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, mostly just at the beginning tho its erasermic endgame
Kudos: 101





	1. 1

The year was 2005. 

Hizashi Yamada, a 15 year old with the dream of becoming a hero, stood at the gates of the famous school called UA—or Yuuei, it depended. 

Just standing at the gates made him feel small, like he didn't belong there. But nevermind that. All he had to do was pass the entrance exam. That of which, of course, he had no idea would have in store for him. 

No biggie. 

At the very least, he had a quirk that would work in his favor. The boy standing next to him, with the black hair, ruby eyes, and pretty voice did not. 

Hizashi would realize two very important things during the exam: one, he was very, very lucky. Two, his name was Aizawa Shouta. 

——————————————

The year was 2006. 

Hizashi Yamada, a 16 year old with the dream of becoming a hero, stood in front of a large classroom door with the word "2-B" scrawled on it. 

He still felt small in the school, but he knew he belonged. His classmates quickly became friends, even if he annoyed them sometimes. He could worry about new classmates, teachers, and friends later. Right now, all he had to do was step through the door. 

Hizashi knew that there would be new, though most familiar faces, but he wasn't expecting to see a boy with familiar black hair, ruby eyes, and a pretty voice. He wasn't expecting a name to surface, though he was sure he'd only talked to him a couple of times before and even then, it was mostly because of Oboro. 

Aizawa Shouta. That was important. He was sure of it—that boy would probably change him. A lot. In ways he both did and didn't want. 

All he knew then was that, no matter what it brought, he wanted him in his life. 

——————————————

"Hey, Shouta!" 

The called boy turned his head towards the other, much more enthusiastic one while scowling. 

"When did I tell you to call me by my first name?" Hizashi's smile dropped slightly, but quickly peaked again when Shouta poked his arm to let him know he wasn't serious. 

"Never, but I know you don't mind it, so really, who cares!"

"Heyo!" Shouta perched up slightly—really, and Hizashi would never say this to him but, it was adorable—and looked across the windows until he found him. A content smile rested on his face. 

Just outside the classroom window, in the middle of the rain, was a boy floating on a white cloud. Across his shoulders was a grey umbrella, and the boy was grinning like he had just seen his childhood idol. 

"Oboro." His voice was slightly lighter than Hizashi was used to and—god—even prettier. Was that a word? He decided that even if it wasn’t, it was fitting enough to be considered one. 

Oboro’s uniform was soaked in the rain that had just now started to pour. His blue hair was, by some gravity defying logic, still staying up. He wiped off the band-aid he had stuck to his nose (“For fashion reasons!”) and hopped into the classroom despite the teachers complaints. One of their classmates grinned at the boy, greeting him while turning around pulling the window shut. 

“Hey, Shouta.” His voice was soft as he sat behind him. Louder—and interrupting the teacher, again—he asked, “Does anyone have an umbrella?” A couple of students laughed at him, including Shouta surprisingly enough, though it was more like a huff. Still, Hizashi stared at him in shock (as if he hadn’t heard him laugh before—I mean, really, they’ve been friends for a whole year now!). 

When Oboro got no response, he sighed and ran his hand through his dripping (how does that even work?!) hair. Shouta was still turned around slightly, just enough to watch him. Oboro smiled and passed forward the umbrella he previously had on his shoulder. 

“Did you drop this?” Shouta smiled more and accepted it, nodding slightly. You wouldn’t have really noticed it unless you paid close attention—which he knew Oboro was doing. What he didn’t know was that Hizashi was as well. 

“Thank you,” his brows pinched together slightly. “but this was there to protect a kitten. Did you..?” Oboro grinned widely and nodded, pulling him out. 

“Yup! Here she is.”

“He.”

“Ah, I see! Well, he’s very adorable, and– hold on, how do you know that?!” A couple of classmates laughed, and Shouta rolled his eyes. Oboro met it by sticking out his tongue. 

He reached into his bag, pulling out some of his gym clothes. With the declaration that he was going to get changed, he– actually, nope, he couldn't even start because of his teachers—and classmates—yelling. Shouta's head shot forward in clear embarrassment and stared down at his lap. 

Oboro sighed as though he didn’t expect this (yes, it has happened before) and used clouds to censor himself, using another one to place the kitten on, which ended up rolling around onto his stomach and staring at Hizashi in mild interest. Once he had finished, Oboro sat down and allowed the teacher to continue. 

“Now, I want you all to remember that most of you will be doing work studies during summer vacation to understand what it's like being a Pro Hero.” The students nodded in agreement, some turning to their friends and asking what agency they were going ro and wondering if they would ever meet. “However,” he said, gaining their attention again. “Shirakumo, Aizawa, Yamada, you three haven’t chosen an agency yet. If you don’t decide soon, then I and the other teachers will have to choose for you.”

——————————————

The three boys walked out of the training grounds exhausted—after taking showers, of course. Around them were two classes—2-A and 2-B—in similar states. All of them surely just wanted to go home and take a nap, thank god it was the end of the school day. 

Inside of the grounds, the classes had practiced battle training, rescue training, and entertainment lessons. Typical hero things, they supposed. And as usual, Oboro was excellent at them all. 

“You know– actually, no, how– how do you do that? Every single time?” Hizashi was panting, one eye shut and his hand resting over his abdomen in a clear display of pain. Even though they had the time to take showers after their training, the pain was still very much there, surprisingly enough. Shouta was carrying the cat—that they have still yet to name—which seemed content curling up in his arms. 

“‘Cause he just is.” Shouta had a small smile on his face as he stared at the mentioned boy. Oboro was grinning, with his hands interlocked behind his head with a clearly proud expression—seemingly from his boyfriends words. Hizashi felt a small, greasy bubble in his stomach—like he was going to vomit. He really had no reason for feeling like this. He was happy for his friends, he was glad that they had stopped just pinning over each other and actually started dating. So why did he feel so disgusting whenever he saw them acting like, well, a couple? 

Did he..?

“A-Anyways, Oboro, Hizashi, why don’t we go to some restaurant or something?” 

“Oh, good idea! Lets go to that new sushi place—I heard they're really good, and–” Hizashi turned away and stopped listening.The slimy feeling was getting stronger every second he looked at them, and he felt that if he continued he would throw up. A hand was placed on his shoulder. 

“Hizashi, are you okay?” He turned towards the boy and smiled. 

“Of course I am, silly! Now, let's go!” He turned in the direction he thought it would be. Clearly it wasn’t, though, as Shouta started laughing. Hizashi’s smile dropped a little, into more of a melancholic sort of thing, but he turned around when Oboro called for them to follow, just a step behind Shouta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,hi-  
> listen,,, im so sorry for the long hiatus,,,, but ill be updating regularly now!! i swear on it!!!!! its basically the same story just 3rd mic pov and before they graduated UA


	2. 2

Sitting on top of the school rooftop, empty disposable bento boxes at their sides, and an unnamed kitten walking around, Hizashi thought that maybe the earlier feeling was just an upset stomach. He felt much better now after eating, and so there shouldn’t have been another reason for his feelings. But still, he avoided looking at them being all cute for too long. 

The three of them had been talking about Shoutas quirk. Mostly, Shouta had just been staring down at his food while blushing. 

“Ya know, maybe you should go the battler route!” Shouta looked over and frowned at Hizashi. 

“How so?”

“Well, I mean, if you do that you can fight villains on even terms. It’ll be fair!” 

“Quirk matchups can make or break a fight–” Oboro started. 

“–And I’m not much of a fighter in the first place. What would I do against a brawler…” Shouta’s voice trailed off before reaching towards Oboros hands. “Hey! Stop it!” Hizashi looked over to them before laughing. 

On his right, Oboro had held out some sushi towards the small kitten for him to eat, chopsticks and all. Shouta was gripping onto his wrists and trying to pull away his hands as though it would kill the kitten. 

“Don’t give him human food, Oboro. That’s bad.” He reached behind him and grabbed his unopened carton of school milk. Under his breath he was mumbling curses as though he were disciplining a toddler for drawing on the wall. He held the milk out to the kitten, not letting go of Oboro’s wrists the whole time as though he might still do something. 

Hizashi watched the scene contently, at least until small pangs hit his chest, neck, stomach. It felt almost burning and straining, like the feeling right before a cough. He cleared his throat, but nothing happened. Drinking some of his milk, he looked away and pretended to ignore the painful feeling. 

Eventually, he couldn't help it anymore. His lungs felt like they were crippling in like plastic bags and his heart felt like it would explode. His throat felt so strained that he was scared that if he were to so much as open his mouth he would fall into a coughing fit. Small coughs into his elbow at first, before forcing himself to stop despite the pain. He didn’t want to bother anyone, so he just kept it short like that as though nothing happened. 

When he pulled away, nothing seemed wrong. He felt slightly better, but he knew something was wrong. He wasn’t stupid, afterall. Shouta and Oboro had been bickering the whole time and paying him no mind, so he figured that it'd be fine if he just left. He turned to them, and instantly another pang attacked his throat. He cleared it again—this time to get their attention—and said that he wasn’t feeling well and was going to go home. Picking up his stuff, he waved to them with a small smile. 

He made it maybe 10 steps down the stairs when he heard someone call for him from across the hall. His head turned in the direction, and he grinned when he saw a familiar third year. 

“Kayama!” He walked over to her, then immediately covered his eyes with his free hand. “Are you–?!” 

He heard the girl laugh. “Sorry, Yamada. Were you coming down from the roof?”

“No– Well, yes, but– What are you wearing?!”

“My hero costume?”

“You’re naked!”

“Ooh, yeah, that.”

“How could you forget that?! You– You should put on proper clothes.” He took a few steps foward before seemingly realizing that it would be rude to just leave—no matter how little clothing she was wearing, she was still his upperclassman. “I– I’ll be going now. You have fun doing… whatever.”

As he was walking away—much quicker now—he heard her say that she was “proud of the youth for breaking rules.” Whatever that meant. He just felt bad for Shouta and Oboro. And—yep. The pain that had temporarily left while talking to Kayama came back full force as soon as he thought of the pair, and it was taking nearly all of his willpower (and dignity) not to die from coughing right there. Hurrying his pace, he rushed down another set of stairs and to the front entrance. 

——————————————

As soon as he opened the front door, he realized two things. One, nobody was home. He had the whole house to himself, since not even his little sister had come home from dance practice yet. Two, the strain and the burn had increased to feelings of pure nausea. He was scared that, if he didn’t make it to some sort of bucket quickly, he would turn his stomach inside out right in the middle of the doorway. 

Was it something he ate? Is that why his stomach felt so greasy, was it food poisoning? His insides churned. But that wouldn’t make any sense, since he felt sick even before he had eaten. He had passed that up to being hungry, but that wouldn't make any sense as to why he felt sick now. He had just eaten! 

Nothing seemed to make any sense as to why he felt so sick, until he had leaned back and stared at the ceiling, eyes watery and hands clamped above his head in an attempt to open up his lungs. The burning feeling was still there, but much less severe. He hadn’t quite thrown up as much as he had dry heaved and coughed, and he didn't quite feel like he was suffocating any more. It was definitely still strong, though. He cleared his throat before standing up, one hand falling to his stomach and the other reaching to flush the toilet. He froze in his spot as his eyes refocused and he actually saw what had fallen in the bowl. 

Inside of the ceramic, the water was bloody and almost chunky. His mind flashed back to when he was in junior high and the teacher was explaining anatomy, how there was this man who literally coughed up part of his lung before dying. Was that what this is? Was he dying? Or was his mind hazed in panic and was he hallucinating? 

He cupped his hands over his eyes, scooting back into the wall and attempting to steady his breathing. Right. He’s not dying, he’ll be fine. He might’ve been hallucinating the whole thing, since there’s no way he’d actually cough up his lung from a minor fit. 

“Hii-zaa-shii. Are you okay in there?” His sister's voice echoed into the room from the door. He must’ve not heard them coming home. He stood up, bringing down his hands and flushing the toilet. 

“Yeah. Sorry. Just tired after training.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard the tremble of his voice and legs. He washed his hands, still trembling. “Why?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo, this is probably gonna be a bit different from different hanahaki aus. personally, i dont really like the idea that they suffocate from the flowers since flowers are surprisingly breathable, especially the flowers im gonna be using. I think flowers would also affect the breath, so youll see what i do instead in the next chapter~


	3. 3

Hizashi had stayed up late that night researching.

After his sister had dragged him around and made him play games, and his parents had asked about his day, he finally plopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

After what could’ve only been five minutes, he quickly sat up and pulled out his computer from under his pillow. Leaning back against the board, he stared at the screen blankly while twitching and wringing his fingers. Taking a deep breath, he reached forward and rested his fingers over the keys.

After about an hour, his search history was filled with things ranging from “ _why is my vomit chunky_ ”—he only found websites telling him that if it wasn’t then that’d be more concerning—to “ _how hard is it to cough up part of your lung_ ”—he already knew all of the information he found, however, from his classes.

Groaning, he let the back of his head hit the wall just above the headboard. A dull thunk echoed throughout the room, and he heard his mother's voice calling to see if everything was alright. After responding quickly, he studied the ceiling of his room. His eyes traced the pattern of daisy’s—were they daisy’s? He supposed it didn’t matter, eyelids shutting slowly in almost frustration. He could feel a burning feeling in the back of his skull—surely to grow into a headache later—and his throat started scratching again. He took a deep breath, almost shuddering as he attempted to clear his mind.

_Flowers… Throat…_

He had jolted so suddenly and harshly that his computer nearly fell off of his bed. He caught it between two fingers and, taking a deep breath, lifted it into his lap and typed quickly.

The sound of keys clacking filled the silence. The words “ _flower disease_ ” filled his search bar, and he scrolled quickly through for a website talking about what he was. He slowly clicked the link, and read through it quickly.

_The Hanahaki Disease is an illness caused by unrequited love. The victim's lungs will fill with their loved ones favorite flower, feeding off of the energy, nutrients, and feelings of the victim. Eventually, the person will either choke to death by the flowers clogging up their lungs, accidentally swallow a flower and die from the poison accumulated in their petals entering their bloodstream, or have the flowers rip out their lungs and suffocate them._

Hizashi froze over the screen. Slowly reaching for his notepad, he jotted down the basics and made note sections just in case. He stared at it blankly, then quickly wrote down to tell his mom about what he had found and if he had hanahaki. He couldn’t say it wasn’t until he was tested, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so short, aaaa i tried to write 2000 words to make up for last week but. whoops- ya hoe stayed up till 6am reading beastars and crying bc legosis mom is a bIT- *ahem* anyways, hope you enjoyed-


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey! this is just incase people are subscribed to it and didnt get the notif since i just updated the chapter instead of posting one, but!! i did it!! next chapter is up and this is just to serve as a notif (which i doubt anyone has on lol)

hey! this is just incase people are subscribed to it and didnt get the notif since i just updated the chapter instead of posting one, but!! i did it!! next chapter is up and this is just to serve as a notif (which i doubt anyone has on lol)


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